IKi-r 


V 


ORATION 

JOB  DURFEE 
SEPT,  6th  1845 


THE  LIBRARY 

OF 

THE  UNIVERSITY 
OF  CALIFORNIA 

PRESENTED  BY 

PROF.  CHARLES  A.  KOFOID  AND 
MRS.  PRUDENCE  W.  KOFOID 


THE  INFLUENCE  OF  SCIENTIFIC  DISCOVERY  AND  INVENTION  Otf 
SOCIAL  AND  POLITICAL  PROGRESS. 


ORATION 


DELIVERED  BEFORE  THE 


PHI  BETA  KAPPA  SOCIETY 


OF 


BROWN   UNIVERSITY, 

PROVIDENCE,  R.  I., 


ON 


COMMENCEMENT    DAY, 

SEPTEMBER  6,  1843. 


By    JOB    DURFEE. 
il 


PROVIDENCE  : 

B.   CRANSTON  AND   COMPANY* 

1843. 


tit 


ORATION. 


GENTLEMEN  OF  THE  SOCIETY  : 

The  influence  of  discovery  in  science,  and  of  in- 
vention in  art,  on  social  and  political  progress,  may 
certainly  form  an  appropriate  theme  for  an  occasion 
like  the  present : — and  if,  during  the  short  time 
which  has  been  left  to  us  by  the  preceding  exercises 
of  the  day,  I  should  endeavor  to  draw  your  atten- 
tion to  this  subject,  rest  assured  that  the  attempt 
will  not  be  prompted  by  a  confidence  in  any  pecu- 
liar qualifications  of  mine  for  the  task,  but  from  a 
desire,  in  some  manner,  to  fulfil  a  duty,  which  per- 
haps with  too  little  caution  I  undertook  to  perform. 

We  are  disposed,  I  think,  to  ascribe  too  much  of 
human  progress  to  particular  forms  of  government — 
to  particular  political  institutions,  arbitrarily  estab- 
lished by  the  will  of  the  ruler,  or  vvilk  of  the  masses, 
in  accordance  with  some  theoretic  abstraction.  And 
this  is  natural  enough  in  a  country  where  popular 
opinion  makes  the  law.  But,  to  the  mind  that  has 
formed  the  habit  of  penetrating  beyond  effects  into 
the  region  of  causes,  it  may,  I  think,  appear  that 
the  will  of  the  one,  or  the  wills  of  the  many,  equally, 
are  under  the  dominion  of  a  higher  law  than  any 
that  they  may  ordain ;  and  that  political  and  social 


M368124 


preme  Intelligence.  And,  if  it  be  true,  as  I  hope 
to  demonstrate,  that  their  discoveries  and  inventions 
rule  in  the  grand  course  of  events,  it  will  afford 
some  consolation  to  reflect,  that,  whether  govern- 
ment falls  into  the  hands  of  demagogue  or  despot, 
(and  it  suffers  equally  from  either,)  this  high  order 
of  intellect  doth,  after  all,  by  setting  limits  to  their 
follies,  guide  and  govern  in  the  main.  To  it  we 
bow  with  deferential  awe — to  it  we  willingly  own 
allegiance,  and  are  proud  to  confess  ourselves  its 
subjects. 

Time,  indeed,  was,  when  this  order  of  mind 
formed  a  union  with  government,  and  was  itself 
despotic,  or  was  ruled  by  despotism.  Such  seems 
to  have  been  its  condition  in  ancient  Egypt — such 
may  be  its  condition  still,  under  those  oriental  gov- 
ernments where  every  change  must  operate  a  social 
disorganization  ;  but  such,  from  the  earliest  date  of 
Grecian  freedom,  has  never  been  its  condition  in 
the  sphere  of  Western  civilization.  It  has  been 
subject  to  restraint,  it  has  suffered  persecution,  but 
it  has  formed  no  necessary  part  of  any  local  gov- 
ernment. It  has  been  under  no  necessity  of  limit- 
ing its  discoveries  or  shaping  its  inventions,  to  suit 
particular  political  or  social  organizations.  At  that 
early  date  it  cut  its  connexion  with  these,  and,  by 
so  doing,  found  the  Archimedean  stand-point  and 
lever,  by  which  it  is  enabled  to  move  the  world. 

But  where  and  what  is  this  point  on  which  the 
scientific  intellect  takes  this  commanding  stand  ? 
It  is  not  to  be  found  in  that  space  which  can  be 
measured  by  a  glance  of  the  eye,  or  a  movement 


of  the  hand.  It  is  to  be  found  only  in  the  world  of 
mind ;  and  even  there,  only  in  that  perfect  reason, 
which  is  at  once  a  law  to  humanity,  and  the  re- 
vealer  of  all  truth.  It  is  a  point  which  lies  even 
beyond  the  extravagant  wish  of  Archimedes.  Per- 
haps he  had  unwittingly  found  it,  when  engaged  in 
the  solution  of  that  mathematical  problem  which 
cost  him  his  life  ;  when,  whilst  the  streets  of  Syra- 
cuse were  thronged  with  bands  of  military  plunder- 
ers, and  the  Roman  soldier,  amid  shouts  of  triumph, 
entering  his  study,  placed  the  sword  at  his  throatj 
he  exclaimed,  "  Hold,  friend,  one  moment,  and  my 
demonstration  will  be  finished."  Far  elevated  above 
local  interests,  far  above  the  petty  strife  and  confu- 
sion of  the  day,  it  is  a  point,  from  whose  Olympian 
height,  all  humanity  is  seen  dwindled  to  a  unit.  It 
is  in  this  elevation  above  the  world  and  its  turmoils, 
that  the  scientific  philosopher  interrogates  the  deity 
of  truth,  and  communicates  its  oracles  to  the  whole 
nether  humanity  ;  confident,  that  as  they  are  true, 
whatever  may  be  their  present  effect,  they  will  ulti- 
mately promote  the  progress  of  the  race. 

Nor  is  he  at  liberty  to  abstain  from  interrogating 
this  deity  ;  to  refrain  from  the  efforts  to  discover, 
and  consequently  to  invent,  whenever  a  discovery  is 
to  be  actualized  by  invention.  That  law  which 
prompts  the  mind  spontaneously  to  search  for  the 
cause  of  every  effect,  and  for  the  most  effectual 
means  for  the  accomplishment  of  the  end,  is  not 
superinduced  by  education.  It  comes  from  a  source 
above  man  ;  it  is  constitutional,  therefore  irresisti* 


6 


ble ;  and  he  makes  his  discoveries  and  inventions 
because  he  must  make  them. 

Now  the  sciences  and  arts,  comprehending  not 
merely  the  liberal  and  fine,  but  the  physical  and 
useful,  consist  of  a  logical  series  of  discoveries  and 
inventions,  commenced  at  the  earliest  date  of  human 
progress,  and  continued  down  to  the  present  time, 
the  last  grand  result  being  the  sum  of  all  the  labors 
that  have  gone  before  it ;  nay,  not  unfrequently  the 
sum  of  the  blood  and  sufferings  of  the  ignoble 
masses,  as  well  as  of  the  labors  of  the  exalted  philo- 
sophic mind.  I  mean  not  to  say  that  this  law  of 
reason,  which  impels  man  to  discover  and  invent, 
conducts  him  from  step  to  step,  from  truth  to  truth, 
in  a  direct  line  to  the  far  result ;  for  he  has  his  lib- 
erty, and  he  often  deviates,  not  for  a  day  merely, 
but  for  a  generation  ;  nay,  sometimes  for  a  whole 
epoch.  But,  however  widely  he  may  err,  he  at  last 
discovers  the  error  of  the  first  false  step  that  he  has 
made  ;  his  false  premise  is  brought  to  its  reductio 
ad  absurdum ;  and,  with  the  benefit  of  all  the  expe^ 
rience,  discipline,  and  knowledge  that  he  has  ac- 
quired by  pursuing  it  to  this  result,  he  returns  to  the 
point  of  departure,  and,  with  redoubled  energy, 
follows  out  the  demonstration  direct,  to  its  quod 
erat  demonstrandum. 

Gentlemen,  excuse  me,  whilst  on  an  occasion 
so  purely  literary,  I  draw  an  illustration  of  this  idea 
from  a  thought  suggested  by  an  invention  in  a 
branch  of  mechanic  art. 

I  lately  visited  an  establishment,  perhaps  in  some 
respects  the  first  of  the  kind  in  our  country,  for  the 


9 

manufacture  of  iron  into  bars.  I  stood  by,  and  for 
the  time,  witnessed  the  operation  of  its  enginery.  I 
saw  the  large  misshapen  mass  of  crude  metal  taken 
blazing  from  the  furnace,  and  passed  through  the 
illumined  air  to  the  appropriate  machine.  I  saw  it 
there  undergo  the  designed  transformation.  It  was 
made  to  pass  repeatedly  between  two  grooved,  re- 
volving iron  cylinders,  of  immense  weight.  At 
every  turn  of  the  wheel  it  took  new  form  ;  it  length- 
ened, stretched,  approximating  still  its  intended 
shape,  till  at  the  end  of  the  operation  it  came  forth 
a  well-fashioned  fifteen  or  twenty  foot  bar  of  iron, 
ready  for  the  hand  of  the  artizan,  or  the  machine 
that  was  to  resolve  it  into  forms  for  ultimate  use. 

When  I  had  witnessed  this  process,  I  thought  I  did 
not  want  to  go  to  the  banks  of  the  Nile  to  be  assured 
either  of  the  antiquity  or  the  progress  of  the  race. 
An  older  than  the  pyramids  was  before  me  ;  one 
which,  though  voiceless,  told  a  tale  that  commenced 
before  the  Pharaohs,  before  the  Memnon,  before 
Thebes.  Here  was  a  material  which  had  been 
common  to  the  historical  portion  of  the  human  family 
for  the  space  of  five  or  six  thousand  years.  Millions 
on  millions  of  minds  had  been  tasked  to  improve  the 
process  of  its  manufacture.  I  went  back,  in  imagi- 
nation, to  that  primitive  age,  when  the  first  unskilful 
hand — some  fur-clad  barbarian  or  savage — drew  a 
mass  of  the  raw  material  from  the  side  of  some 
volcanic  mountain.  He  constructed  a  vessel  of  clay 
for  its  reception,  and,  somewhat  in  imitation  of  the 
process  he  had  witnessed,  he  placed  it  over  a  heap 
of  blazing  combustibles.  With  long  and  patient 
2 


10 

labor  and  care,  he  reduced  it  to  a  liquid  mass  ;  and 
then  cast  it  into  the  shape  of  some  rude  implement 
of  husbandry  or  war.  Exulting  in  his  success,  he 
brandished  the  instrument  in  triumph,  and  deemed 
it  the  ne  plus  ultra  of  human  improvement. 

He  disappeared;  but  he  left  a  successor.  I  fol- 
lowed him,  in  imagination,  and  saw  him  take  the  art 
at  the  point  at  which  his  predecessor  had  left  it.  He 
had  discovered  that  the  material  was  not  only  fusible, 
but  ductile ;  and  with  sweat  and  toil  that  knew  no 
fatigue,  he  gradually  beat  the  heated  mass  into  the 
shape  of  something  like  a  hatchet,  or  a  sword.  At 
this  point  he  also  disappeared ;  but  his  successor 
came,  and  still  improved  on  the  labors  of  his  prede- 
cessor. Generation  thus  followed  generation  of  apt 
apprentices  in  the  art ;  they  formed  a  community  of 
masters  skilful  to  direct,  and  of  servants  prompt  to 
obey.  They  fashioned  new  implements  as  their  num- 
bers increased,  and  the  wants  of  advancing  civiliza- 
tion varied  and  multiplied.  The  master-minds 
studied,  and  studied  successfully,  all  the  various 
qualities  and  susceptibilities  of  the  metal.  They 
became  skilful  in  all  its  various  uses,  in  agriculture, 
commerce,  manufactures  and  war.  Yes,  ye  philan- 
thropists !  in  war !  For  humanity  actually  armed 
herself  against  humanity  to  draw  out  and  discipline 
the  faculties  of  the  human  mind,  and  bring  the  art  to 
perfection.  She  instituted  a  school  of  her  own,  and 
was  herself  its  stern  and  unyielding  preceptress. 
She  chastened  her  laggard  and  truant  children  as 
with  a  rod  of  iron.  1  saw  her  force  her  sons  into 
bondage  by  thousands — aye,  by  millions.  I  saw 


11 

them  sweat  and  toil  at  the  anvil  like  so  many  living 
machines.  They  were  once  free  barbarians ;  but 
they  were  now  in  the  school  of  civilization.  They 
were  learning  something  of  the  arts.  They  would 
not  labor  from  the  love  of  labor,  but  only  from  con- 
straint and  fear.  Their  willing  task-masters  grew 
strong  and  powerful  in  the  labors  of  the  barbarous 
masses,  that  superior  knowledge  and  power  had  sub- 
jected to  their  will.  They  took  counsel  together, 
and  still  went  forth  to  conquer  and  enslave.  Ages, 
centuries,  epochs  passed  away,  and  still  the  same 
process  was  going  on.  They  built  up  for  themselves 
a  bright  and  glorious  intellectual  civilization,  that 
extended  far  and  wide  over  the  earth ;  yet  it  was  but 
the  gilding  of  the  surface ;  for  it  had  its  deep  and 
dark  foundations  upon  mind  in  bondage,  upon 
masses  in  slavery.  And  their  power  grew  feeble 
from  expansion.  The  numbers  of  the  free  would 
not  suffice  to  sustain  their  dominion.  And  they 
sought  for  aid,  but  could  conceive  of  none,  save  in 
the  enslaved  masses  beneath  them.  And  now  came, 
improved  by  long  ages  of  civilization,  the  scientific 
and  inventive  genius  to  their  aid.  She  glanced  back 
upon  the  past ;  she  discovered  the  point  of  departure 
from  the  progress  direct,  and  the  source  of  the  errors 
whence  this  appalling  result.  She  sought,  and  sought 
not  in  vain,  to  substitute  the  brute  forces  of  nature 
for  the  labor  of  human  hands.  Then  began  the 
water-wheel  to  turn  at  the  falls,  and  the  trip-hammer 
to  sound  upon  the  anvil,  and  the  manacles  of  the 
slave  to  fall  off,  as  improvement  was  built  upon  im- 
provement, in  regular  consecutive  order,  till  the 


12 

burning  bar  shot  from  the  perfected  machinery  al- 
most unaided  by  human  strength. 

This  brought  me  to  the  process  which  I  had  just 
witnessed,  and  I  thought  I  saw  in  it  the  grand  result 
of  the  discipline  and  labor  of  the  race  for  thousands 
of  years.  1  thought  I  saw  in  it,  not  only  the  reality 
of  a  progress  in  the  race,  but  the  unquestionable 
proof  of  the  existence  of  a  law  of  progress,  carrying 
on  its  grand  process  through  the  whole  humanity  by 
a  logical  series  of  causes  and  effects,  from  its  earli- 
est premises,  in  far  distant  antiquity,  to  its  latest 
result ;  and  that  the  law,  which  rules  in  discovery 
and  invention,  is  one  and  identical  with  that  which 
governs  in  the  progress  of  the  race. 

I  speak  not  here  of  particular  communities  or 
nations,  for  nations,  like  men,  decay  and  die — but 
of  the  whole  humanity,  which  is  as  immortal  as  the 
spirit  of  man,  or,  perhaps,  as  the  divinity  that  rules 
it ;  which  feeds  and  grows  in  one  branch  of  its  ex- 
istence upon  the  decaying  energies  of  another,  and 
which  is  thus  ever  renovating  its  vital  and  intellectual 
energies  out  of  the  past,  and,  amid  unceasing  decay, 
enjoying  a  perpetual  rejuvenescence.  On  such  an 
existence  doth  this  law  of  progress  ever  act ;  con- 
stantly forming  and  energizing  the  individual  intel- 
lect by  the  unceasingly  accumulating  wisdom  of  the 
past,  and  by  appropriating  the  forces  of  nature  to 
the  uses  of  social  man,  it  is,  at  this  day,  carrying  on 
in  the  world  of  mind  that  work  of  creation,  which 
the  Divine  Author  of  humanity  did  but  commence 
in  the  garden  of  Eden. 


13 

There  may  be  limits  to  man's  capacities,  but  to 
the  energies  of  nature  which  those  capacities,  acting 
under  this  law,  may  put  in  requisition,  there  are  no 
limits.  Each  new  discovery  in  science  suggests  the 
existence  of  something  yet  undiscovered  ;  each  new 
combination  in  art,  on  trial,  suggests  combinations 
yet  untried ;  thus  revealing,  on  the  one  hand,  a  law 
of  suggestion,  which,  from  the  nature  of  mind,  must 
ever  act ;  and,  on  the  other,  objects  and  subjects  of 
action  which  are  as  boundless,  and  as  inexhaustible 
as  the  universe. 

Now  if  this  be,  and  must  continue  to  be  the  true 
process  of  discovery  and  invention  ;  and  if,  in  its 
progress,  as  I  hope  to  prove,  it  must  constantly 
reflect  itself  into  all  social  and  political  organiza- 
tions, we  have  an  assurance  of  progress,  not  depend- 
ent, thank  Heaven,  upon  carrying  to  their  results 
any  political  abstractions,  or  any  ideas  of  popular 
sovereignty  drawn  from  the  perversions  of  revolu- 
tionary France  ;  but  upon  a  law  of  progress,  which 
God  has  ordained  for  the  government  of  humanity, 
and  which  is  as  certain  and  eternal  in  its  operations 
as  any  law  which  governs  the  material  universe. 

But  let  us  see,  by  a  brief  glance  at  the  page  of 
history,  whether  this  law  of  progressive  discovery 
and  invention,  doth,  or  doth  not,  rule  in  social  and 
political  progress. 

And  here  permit  me  to  premise,  that  the  sciences 
and  the  arts,  considered  with  reference  to  social  and 
political  progress,  may  be  divided  into  two  classes  ; 
first,  those  which  are  necessary  or  useful  as  aids  or 
instruments  of  thought  and  sentiment ;  as  among 


14 

the  sciences,  grammar,  rhetoric,  logic,  geometry; 
and  among  the  arts,  music,  poetry,  painting,  sculp- 
ture, architecture,  and  the  art  of  writing,  or  preserv- 
ing the  memory  of  the  past.  Second,  those  whose 
immediate  object  it  is  to  enlarge  our  knowledge 
of  nature,  and  improve  the  physical  condition  of 
man.  These  are  the  physical  sciences  and  useful 
arts  improved  by  science.  In  the  progress  of  the 
race,  the  first  class  is  necessarily  brought  earliest  to 
perfection.  Man  must  be  disciplined  to  think  logi- 
cally, and  to  communicate  and  preserve  his  thoughts 
and  sentiments,  before  he  can  make  any  considera- 
ble progress  in  the  physical  sciences  and  useful  arts. 
Hence  it  is,  that,  among  the  ancient  nations  of  the 
earth,  we  find  this  high  order  of  mind  almost  exclu- 
sively engaged  in  carrying  the  first  class  to  perfec- 
tion, whilst  it  devoted  comparatively  little  attention 
to  the  physical  sciences  and  useful  arts.  Indeed, 
the  useful  arts  seem  to  have  been  abandoned  almost 
entirely  to  slaves.  They  were  carried  on  by  manual 
labor.  Invention  had  not  yet  subjected  the  forces 
of  nature  to  the  human  will,  and  that  vast  amount 
of  toil,  which  is  required  to  support  a  splendid  civi- 
lization, was  urged  on  by  an  immense  mass  of  peo- 
ple in  bondage. 

I  would  further  observe,  that  as  the  scientific  and 
inventive  order  of  mind  subsists,  generally,  indepen- 
dent of  any  necessary  connexion  with  any  particular 
government,  so  its  influence  is  not  to  be  traced  in 
the  history  of  this  or  that  people  or  community 
merely,  but  rather  in  that  of  a  common  civiliza- 
tion ;  such  as  that  of  classical  antiquity,  or  modern 


15 

Christendom,  consisting  of  a  community  of  nations, 
in  which  one  government  or  society  acts  upon 
another,  and  from  which,  through  this  very  diver- 
sity, that  order  of  mind  derives  its  power  to  coerce. 
It  acts  through  one  government  on  another,  through 
one  society  on  another,  through  society  on  govern- 
ment, and  through  government  on  society ;  its  dis- 
coveries and  inventions  every  where  inviting  the 
appropriate  change,  at  first  from  policy,  but  if  not 
adopted  from  policy,  compelling  its  adoption,  at  last, 
by  force  of  the  principle  of  self-preservation. 

History  enables  us  to  show,  in  but  a  few  instances, 
the  effects  which  each  succeeding  discovery  or  in- 
vention produced  on  society  in  the  infancy  of  .the 
race  ;  but  it  does  enable  us  to  see  their  combined 
results  in  the  form  which  society  took  under  their 
dominion. 

In  Egypt,  the  sarcerdotal  order  was  the  depository 
of  all  the  science  and  learning  of  the  age ;  and  that 
order,  in  fact,  seems  to  have  been  the  governing 
power.  Now  what  were  its  sciences,  real  or  pre- 
tended ?  Geometry,  astronomy,  astrology,  and  a 
mystic  theology.  These  were  studied  as  the  great 
sciences  of  ancient  Egypt,  and  carried  out  into  their 
respective  arts ;  and,  to  say  nothing  about  their  ge- 
ometry and  astronomy,  have  not  the  two  last  left  the 
distinctive  impress  of  their  mysticism  upon  every 
thing  that  remains  of  this  ancient  civilization  ?  It 
appears  in  the  labyrinth,  the  pyramid,  the  temple, 
and  the  hieroglyphics  with  which  they  were  blazoned; 
and  in  the  statuary,  the  sphinx,  the  veiled  Isis,  and 
mute  Harpocrates,  with  which  each  entrance  was 


16 

sanctified.  Society  divided  itself,  spontaneously, 
into  castes.  Where  there  is  progress,  the  highest 
order  of  intellect  must  lead,  and  the  priesthood  of 
Egypt,  with  the  king  at  their  head,  necessarily  stood 
first.  Next  to  them  the  warrior  caste,  by  which  all 
was  defended  or  preserved.  Beneath  them,  the  mass 
consisting  chiefly  of  slaves,  or  those  who  were  ele- 
vated little  above  the  condition  of  bondmen.  These 
were  again  divided  into  castes,  corresponding  to  the 
laborious  arts  which  they  followed,  with,  probably, 
each  its  tutelary  deity.  The  son  followed  the  oc- 
cupation of  his  father,  and  society  underwent  a  sort 
of  petrifaction,  from  the  arts  which  admitted  of  no 
change  without  destruction.  This  arrangement 
could  not  have  resulted  from  the  designs  of  a  cun- 
ning priesthood,  establishing  and  ordaining  the  or- 
ganization for  their  particular  benefit.  It  must  have 
grown  up  with  the  progress  of  the  sciences  and  arts. 
Each  art,  newly  invented  or  introduced,  had  its  ar- 
tizans,  who  transmitted,  like  the  sacerdotal  order, 
their  peculiar  mystery  to  their  particular  posterity. 
The  governing  power,  since  it  embodied  within 
itself  all  science,  and  took  its  constitution  from  it, 
might,  after  the  arts  had  reflected  themselves  into 
society,  have  very  naturally  interfered  to  protect 
that  social  organization,  into  which,  as  mysteries, 
they  spontaneously  fell. 

But  let  us  pass  to  Greece.  No  one  doubts  that 
Greece  owed  her  civilization  to  her  literature  and 
arts.  But  to  what  was  she  indebted  for  the  success- 
ful cultivation  of  these  ?  It  has  been  ascribed  to  the 
freedom  of  her  political  institutions.  But,  again  it 


17 

may  be  asked,  to  what  were  they  indebted  for  that 
freedom  ?     Is  it  not  plain  that  they  were  indebted 
for  it  to  the  fact,  that  her  literature  and  arts  early 
took  root  in  the  vigorous  barbarism  of  distinct  and 
independent  communities,  and  that  as  her  political 
institutions  settled  down  into  definite  and  fixed  forms, 
they  took  their  complexion  and  shape   necessarily 
from  the  arts  and  literature  cultivated  by  society  ? 
In  Lacedemon,  the  art  of  war  alone  was  cultivated, 
and  she  was,  for  long,  exclusively  a  martial  State ; 
but  was  finally  obliged  to  give  way  to  the  influences 
operating  around  and  within  her.    As  to  all  the  rest 
of  Greece,  it  was  under  the  dominion  of  the  fluctu- 
ating wills  of  the  many,  or  the  few,  and  there  was 
nothing  permanent  to  give  regular  progression  and 
tendency  to  political  and  social  institutions,  but  the 
arts  and  sciences  cultivated. 

Greece  commenced  her  civilization  with  colonies 
from  Egypt  and  Phoenicia.  They  brought  with  them 
the  arts  and  sciences,  and  something  of  the  wealth 
of  the  parent  countries,  and  ingrafted  all  on  her  ac- 
tive barbarism.  And  here,  again,  the  immediate 
influence  of  the  newly  introduced  sciences  and  arts, 
or  of  any  particular  discovery  or  invention,  rarely 
appears  in  history,  and  is  but  dimly  shadowed  forth 
in  the  myths  of  the  golden  and  heroic  ages.  But 
until  they  were  introduced,  Greece  was  peopled  by 
bands  of  roving  savages.  Piracy  was  an  honorable 
profession  ;  the  coast  could  not  be  safely  inhabited  ; 
one  savage  band  was  continually  driven  back  upon 
another.  Attica  was  spared  for  its  poverty.  The 
Corinthians  made  the  first  great  improvement  in  na- 
3 


18 

val  architecture.  They  invented  the  war  galley  df 
three  banks  of  oars.  They  constructed  a  navy  of 
like  craft.  This  was  followed  by  great  results  ;  they 
cleared  the  Grecian  seas  of  pirates ;  nations  settled 
on  the  coast,  and  by  like  means  kept  them  clear. 
The  Mediterranean  was  laid  open  to  honest  traffic  ; 
commerce  flourished ;  the  arts  flourished.  The 
Grecian  communities  took  the  longest  stride  in  the 
infancy  of  their  progress,  from  this  simple  improv- 
ment  in  naval  architecture, — the  longest  with  the  ex- 
ception of  that  made  by  the  Trojan  war.  That  war 
did  for  the  Greeks  what  the  crusades  in  modern  times 
did  for  the  nations  of  Europe.  It  made  them  known 
to  each  other ;  disciplined  them  in  a  common  art  of 
war ;  made  them  acquainted  with  a  higher  civiliza- 
tion and  its  arts,  and  restored  them  to  their  country 
with  a  common  history,  and  themes  for  their  bards 
of  all  time. 

Greece,  it  is  believed,  presents  the  first  instance 
of  a  civilized  people,  in  which  the  exercise  of  the 
powers  of  government,  and  the  almost  exclusive 
cultivation  of  the  sciences,  are  not  to  be  found  in 
the  same  hands.  The  sacerdotal  corporation  in 
Greece,  did  not  embrace  all  learning,  as  in  Egypt, 
and  did  not,  as  there,  control  the  state.  Science 
and  art,  absolved  from  political  connexion,  stood, 
then  and  there,  on  the  same  independent  ground, 
as  in  our  own  age  and  country.  Philosophy,  it  is 
true,  was  held  in  check  by  superstition ;  but  gov- 
ernment did  not  assume  to  restrain,  control,  or 
direct  improvement  in  art  and  science.  And  now, 
what  was  the  result  of  this  independent  and  isolated 


19 

existence  of  the  scientific  mind  upon  the  social  and 
political  organizations  of  Greece  ?  It  seems  to  me 
to  have  been  immense.  Whatever  of  art  or  science 
was  introduced  from  Egypt,  found  no  corresponding 
social  organization  in  Greece,  and  the  bondage  of 
caste  there  never  appeared,  and  for  this  reason  it  is, 
that  of  all  the  races  of  men,  the  Grecian  is  the  first 
to  present  us  with  an  intellectual  people  ;  a  people 
intellectual  and  progressive  by  force  of  its  own  in- 
ternal and  all-pervasive  action.  Science  was  no 
mystery,  and  each  Greek  was  at  liberty  to  cultivate 
whatever  branch  of  knowledge  or  art,  it  to  him 
seemed  meet ;  and  therefore  it  was,  that  Grecian 
society  necessarily  became  free  to  the  extent  to 
which  this  cultivation  could  be  carried,  and  there 
freedom  stopped — there  slavery  commenced.  Those 
who  were  consigned  to  the  labors  of  the  industrial 
arts,  if  it  had  been  permitted,  had  neither  the  means 
nor  the  power  to  cultivate  the  sciences ;  and  they 
were  slaves. 

Every  free  Greek  did  or  might  cultivate  gram- 
mar, logic,  rhetoric,  music,  and  geometry.  And 
what  was  the  product  of  these  sciences  ?  The  fine 
arts.  They  improved  language  ;  they  improved  the 
power  of  expressing  thought  and  sentiment;  and 
they  produced  philosophers,  poets,  historians,  ora- 
tors, sculptors,  painters,  and  architects.  These  pro- 
duced an  ever  enduring  literature,  and  specimens  in 
the  fine  arts,  destined  to  become  models  for  all 
time.  The  sciences  and  arts  of  Greece  became 
the  sciences  and  arts  of  Rome  and  the  Roman  Em- 


20 

pire,  and  were  diffused  to  the  full  extent  of  Roman 
conquest. 

I  will  not  indulge  in  any  common  place  rhetoric 
about  Grecian  civilization.  You  know  what  it  was. 
The  only  point  to  which  1  would  here  call  your  atten- 
tion is,  that  the  arts  and  sciences  of  classical  antiquity 
were  not  effects  of  the  improved  character  of  the 
social  and  political  institutions  of  the  epoch,  but  on 
the  contrary,  that  their  improved  character  was  the 
result  of  the  scientific  progress  of  the  common  mind, 
which  progress  went  on  in  obedience  to  no  law,  save 
that  which  God  has  ordained  for  its  government. 

But  it  was  the  liberal  sciences  and  the  fine  arts  that 
were  mainly  cultivated  in  this  ancient  civilization. 
Man  had  not  yet  learned  to  go  abroad  out  of  himself 
into  nature  to  search  for  facts.  He  found  the  ele- 
ments of  the  sciences  and  arts,  which  he  almost  ex- 
clusively cultivated,  within  his  own  mind,  or  within 
his  immediate  social  sphere.  He  was  preparing  the 
necessary  means,  the  instruments,  by  which  he  was 
in  after  times  to  explore  the  universe,  and  extend 
the  sphere  of  social  improvement  by  the  physical 
sciences  and  useful  arts. 

And  now  what  was  the  consequence  of  this  per- 
haps necessary  restriction  of  discovery  and  inven- 
tion ?  A  superficial  civilization,  grand  and  impos- 
ing it  is  true,  but  still  a  civilization  that  went  no 
further  than  the  practically  free  cultivation  of  the 
predominant  arts  and  sciences  of  the  epoch  ;  a  civ- 
ilization that  did  not  penetrate  the  great  mass  of 
human  society.  The  laborious  industry  by  which 
it  was  supported,  was  carried  on  by  an  immense 


21 

mass  of  unintellectual  bondmen,  who  were  to  be 
employed  by  their  masters,  lest  they  should  find  em- 
ployment for  themselves.  The  useful  arts  became 
mysteries,  and  the  secrets  of  nature  remained  se- 
crets still. 

Every  where,  throughout  this  ancient  civilization, 
whether  Grecian  or  Roman,  the  same  horizontal 
division  of  society  prevailed,  and  in  portions  of  like 
ratio.  A  portion  of  the  social  mind,  large,  it  is 
true,  if  compared  with  any  thing  in  preceding  his- 
tory, was  cultivated ;  but  still  a  very  small  portion, 
if  compared  with  the  masses  in  bondage.  In  Attica, 
the  proportion  of  the  freemen  to  the  whole  enslaved 
population,  was  as  two  to  forty  ;  in  the  Roman  em- 
pire, at  one  time,  as  seven  to  sixty  ;  and  the  bond- 
men subsequently  so  far  increased,  that  armies 
sufficient  for  the  defence  of  the  state  could  not  be 
enlisted  from  the  freemen.  Beneath  this  bright 
covering  of  civilization,  what  a  vast  amount  of  in- 
tellectual susceptibility  lay  slumbering  in  the  night 
of  ignorance  and  bondage  ! 

The  predominant  arts  and  sciences  of  this  epoch 
were  at  last  brought  to  their  perfection.  They 
ceased  to  advance,  and  society  became  stationary. 
The  mind  of  Asia  and  the  south  of  Europe  could 
go  no  further.  It  was  the  hardy  vigor  of  the  North, 
alone,  that  was  competent  successfully  to  use  the 
instruments  which  this  ancient  civilization  had  per- 
fected ;  to  go  out  of  the  sphere  of  social  man  into 
nature  ;  to  regenerate  and  multiply  the  useful  arts 
and  sciences,  and,  by  their  means,  to  elevate  the 
masses  from  the  condition  of  bondage  to  the  free- 


22 

dom  of  intellectual  life.  Northern  barbarism  there- 
fore came  ;  and  it  conquered,  for  this  simple  reason, 
that  the  arts  and  sciences  of  antiquity  had  not  made 
the  civilization  of  the  epoch  sufficiently  strong  to 
resist  it. 

Gentlemen,  we  are  not  dealing  with  a  history  of 
events,  but  with  the  causes  which  produce  them, 
and  especially  those  changes  which  add  permanently 
to  the  improvement  of  the  social  and  political  con- 
dition of  man.  I  know  you  may  follow  these 
changes  in  the  history  of  events,  civil,  religious  and 
military ;  but  I  am  endeavoring  to  point  out  their 
origin  in  those  causes  which  gave  the  institutions 
they  produced,  shape,  consistency  and  duration ; 
and  to  demonstrate,  that  they  are  not  to  be  found  in 
accident,  or  in  the  arbitrary  dictates  of  the  human 
will,  but  in  an  eternal  law  of  mind  which  especially 
manifests  itself  in  the  arts  and  sciences.  For  this 
reason  it  is  not  necessary  to  cite  all  history,  but 
merely  a  number  of  its  facts,  sufficient  to  establish 
the  position. 

And  now,  lest  I  should  exhaust  your  patience,  I 
pass  the  gulph  of  the  middle  ages  with  this  single 
observation,  that  it  was  a  season  during  which 
Christianity  was  engaged  in  humanizing  and  soften- 
ing the  heart  of  barbarism,  and  thus  qualifying  its 
mind  to  take  form  under  the  influence  of  modern 
art  and  science  ;  and  landing  on  the  margin  of  our 
present  civilization,  1  proceed  to  discuss  the  social 
and  political  effects  of  scientific  discovery  and  in- 
vention in  modern  times.  And  here  we  have  an 
opportunity  of  tracing  those  effects  with  historical 


23 

certainty  to  their  causes,  and  of  proving,  as  I  hope, 
to  minds  the  most  sceptical,  the  truth  of  our  position. 

But  before  doing  this,  I  must  speak  of  the  social 
condition  of  the  mass  of  society  on  which  early 
modern  discoveries  produced  their  effects.  Time 
will  permit  me  to  state  it  only  in  the  most  general 
terms ;  and  perhaps  on  an  occasion  like  the  present, 
and  to  such  an  audience,  this  is  all  that  is  necessary 
or  even  proper. 

Guizot,  in  his  admirable  history  of  the  civilization 
of  modern  Europe,  dates  the  commencement  of 
modern  society  in  the  sixteenth  century.  But  mod- 
ern society  came  out  of  a  pre-existent  state  of  things, 
which  state  of  things  first  manifested  itself,  and  be- 
came general  in  the  tenth  century,  when  Europe 
rose  out  of  the  bosom  of  a  chaotic  barbarism,  and 
took  distinct  form  in  the  feudal  system.  This  re- 
mark, however  applies  more  particularly  to  the 
north  and  west  of  Europe.  It  was  whilst  this  was 
the  predominant  system,  that  she  commenced  and 
carried  on  the  crusades,  and  not  only  made  herself 
acquainted  with  herself,  but  with  the  remnants  of 
civilization  in  the  east  and  south  of  Europe.  It  was 
riot  until  the  thirteenth  century,  that  she  manifested 
a  decided  tendency  to  her  present  political  and  so- 
cial organization.  And  it  is  to  a  mere  glance  at  her 
condition  at  this  period,  that  I  would  now  invite 
your  attention. 

In  the  East  was  the  Greek,  the  remnant  of  the 
ancient  Roman  empire,  still  consisting  of  the  same 
elements  which  distinguished  it  in  the  time  of  Con- 
stantine,  a  master  class  and  a  servant  class.  Those 


24 

of  the  first  class,  eclipsed  though  they  were,  "  had 
not  yet  lost  all  their  original  brightness."  They 
were  still  imbued  with  something  of  the  philosophy 
and  literature  of  ancient  Greece ;  and,  in  point  of 
numbers,  they  bore  perhaps  about  the  same  ratio  as 
their  progenitors  to  the  immense  mass  of  slaves  be- 
neath them.  In  Italy,  were  the  Italian  republics, 
exhibiting  remnants  of  the  ancient  Roman  munici- 
pal institutions.  They  cultivated  the  Latin  litera- 
ture, and  were  soon  to  be  engaged  in  renovating  the 
fine  arts  of  classical  antiquity,  and  were  already,  for 
the  era,  extensively  employed  in  commercial  enter- 
prize.  The  ratio  of  the  free  to  the  bond,  was  prob- 
ably about  the  same  as  it  had  been  during  the  Ro- 
man empire.  Subject  to  these  exceptions,  all 
Europe  fell  under  the  feudal  system,  and  certain 
corporations,  called  free  cities,  which,  situated  with- 
in the  fief  of  some  baron,  wrested  or  wrung  from 
him  whatever  privileges  they  could,  by  force  or 
compact.  There  were  no  nations — no  govern- 
ments on  a  large  scale.  Europe  was  dotted  all 
over  with  baronies  and  these  free  cities.  Each 
barony,  whatever  it  might  be  in  theory,  was  a  little 
sovereignty.  Each  baron,  with  his  retainers,  under 
a  load  of  armor,  and  armed  with  sword  and  lance, 
and  other  offensive  weapons  of  the  times,  occupied 
his  castle  in  the  country.  He  willingly  submitted 
to  no  law,  save  that  of  superior  force.  His  king- 
dom was  his  fief,  and  his  subjects  were  his  vassals, 
who  followed  him  in  war,  or  tilled  his  land,  or  per- 
formed for  him  other  laborious  service.  The  free 
cities  were  walled ;  the  dwelling  of  the  burgher 


Was  not  merely  in  law,  but  in  fact,  his  castle,  pro- 
tected by  tower  and  parapet ;  and  the  burgher  him- 
self, when  he  ventured  abroad  to  thread  the  narrow 
lanes  and  crooked  streets  of  his  city,  went  armed 
with  lance,  and  often  under  cover  of  armor.  The 
Romish  church  presented  the  only  element  which 
pervaded  all  these  little  sovereignties  and  cities. 
Except  among  the  clergy  and  the  civilians,  there 
were  no  scholars ;  and  to  say  nothing  about  their 
vassals,  perhaps  not  one  in  a  hundred  of  the  noble 
barons  themselves,  could  either  read  or  write.  Nay, 
they  were  proud  of  their  ignorance  of  those  accom- 
plishments. The  author  of  Marmion  means  to  give 
them  their  true  character,  at  a  much  later  period, 
when  he  represents  the  Douglas  as  exclaiming : 

Thanks  to  St.  Botham  !  son  of  mine, 
Save  Gawain,  ne'er  could  pen  a  line  ; 
I  swore  it  once,  I  swear  it  still — 
Let  my  boy  bishop  fret  his  fill. 

It  is  true,  that  when  the  crusades  ceased,  some- 
thing of  that  zeal,  which  had  originated  and  carried 
them  on,  began  to  pass  into  new  channels.  Those 
immense  masses,  that  had  passed  out  of  the  north 
and  west  of  Europe,  had  made  themselves  ac- 
quainted with  the  advancing  civilization  of  the 
Italian  republics,  and  with  the  remnant  of  ancient 
civilization  in  the  Greek  empire.  They  had  pene- 
trated into  Asia,  and  had  heard  and  credited  all  the 
fables  that  oriental  imagination  could  invent,  of  the 
wealth  and  splendor  of  the  gorgeous  East, 

Whose  richest  hand 
Showered  on  her  kings  barbaric  pearl  and  gold. 

And  they  returned  to  their  respective  countries  with 
4 


26 

these  fables,  and  stimulated  a  thirst  for  further 
knowledge  ;  but  above  all,  they  excited  the  love  of 
adventure  and  discovery,  a  yearning  for  the  yet  un- 
explored and  unknown  ;  breeding  a  vague  but  con- 
fident faith  in  a  something  vast,  boundless,  myste- 
rious, that  was  yet  in  reserve  for  daring  enterprize, 
or  unyielding  perseverance — -haply  a  true  augury 
this,  of  the  discovery  yet  to  be  made  on  this  side  the 
Atlantic — yet,  however  fertile  their  imaginations, 
the  most  ardent  of  them  had  not  conceived  the 
possibility  of  the  existence  of  this  continent.  Here 
it  lay,  secreted  in  the  western  skies,  beyond  an 
ocean  whose  westward  rolling  billow,  it  was  then 
deemed,  broke  on  no  shore  toward  the  setting 
sun,  awaiting,  in  all  the  grandeur  of  waving  forest* 
towering  mountain,  and  majestically  winding  stream, 
the  further  discoveries  of  science,  and  the  future 
wants  of  a  progressive  civilization. 

Now  let  us  for  one  moment  contemplate  this  con- 
dition of  affairs  throughout  Europe — this  vast  num- 
ber of  scattered  petty  sovereignties,  and  municipal 
communities — this  general  pervasive  ignorance — 
this  enormous  mass  of  vassals,  serfs,  and  slaves? 
which  underlaid  and  gave  foundation  to  all ;  and 
then  ask  ourselves,  what  process  of  legislation  or 
compact,  originating  merely  in  the  human  will, 
could  have  resolved  this  jumble  of  conflicting  ma- 
terials into  those  organized  nations  and  communi- 
ties of  nations,  which  now  constitute  the  civilization 
of  all  Christendom.  We  can  conceive  of  110  pro- 
cess so  originating,  that  could  possibly  have  brought 


2? 

about  this  grand  result.     Yet  human  legislation  and 
compact  were  the  secondary  causes  by  which  it  was 
accomplished.     But  what,  humanly  speaking,  was 
the  primary  cause  ?   that  is  the  subject  of  our  in- 
quiry.    I  find  it  in  a  necessary  result  of  that  law  of 
scientific  progress,  which  I  have  already  pointed 
out ;  I  find  it  in  the  grand  revolution  which  at  this 
time  took  place  in  the  science  and  art  of  war ;  in 
one  word,  I  find  it  in  the  invention  of  Gunpowder. 
Start  not  with  incredulity  and  aversion  at  the  annun- 
ciation ;    the  cause  of  causes  is  there.      Tell  me 
not  of  wars  domestic  and  foreign,  of  treaties,  of 
parliaments,  of  councils  of  state  and  church.     They 
were  the  mere  external  symptoms  of  the  action  of 
the  all-sufficient  internal  cause.     Yes,  the  first  can- 
non that  projected  the  ball  of  stone  or  iron,  an- 
nounced, in  its  own  voice  of  thunder,  the  final  doom 
of  the  feudal  system,  the  centralization  of  nations,  the 
ultimate  emancipation  of  the  enthralled,   and  the 
establishment  of  a  Christian  civilization  on  a  basis 
never  more  to  be  periled  by  the  inroad  of  barbarian, 
or  the  invasion  of  Turk.     The  revival  of  ancient 
learning  might  have  done  much  toward  again  pla- 
ting over  society  with   the    civilization  of  classical 
antiquity ;  but  neither  that  nor  mere  human  legis- 
lation  could   have  overthrown  the  feudal  system, 
centralized  nations,  penetrated,  and  finally  emanci- 
pated the  nether  mass  of  bondmen,    and   forever 
shut  out  the  inundations  of  barbarism. 

Feudalism  gave  way  either  immediately,  in  an- 
ticipation of  the  results  of  the  discovery,  or  finally, 
under  the  direct  operation  of  its  physical  force* 


28 

What  availed  the  Herculean  arm,  or  giant  muscular 
force  ?  What  availed  the  panoply  of  helmet,  and 
shield,  and  coat  of  mail  ?  Nay,  what  availed  tower 
and  trench,  parapet  and  battlement,  whether  of  ba- 
ronial castle,  walled  city,  or  burgher's  armed  abode  ? 
They  all  crumbled  into  atoms,  or  stood  scathed  and 
powerless  before  the  blast  of  this  tremendous  in- 
vention. 

Gunpowder,  in  the  material  world,  is  a  most  ter- 
rible leveller ;  it  makes  no  distinction  between  the 
strong  man  and  the  weak.  But  in  the  world  of  mind, 
it  is  a  most  determined  aristocrat.  It  establishes 
"  in  times  that  try  men's  souls,"  none  but  the  aris- 
tocracy of  intellect.  Nay,  in  the  long  run,  it  goes 
still  further;  for,  since  to  command  its  service  it 
requires  national  wealth,  it  perpetuates  power  in  the 
hands  of  those  only  who  know  how  best  to  use  it  for 
the  benefit  of  all. 

The  barons  abandoned  their  castles  for  the  court 
of  the  sovereign,  suzerain  or  lord ;  and  that  lord 
became  the  most  powerful  whose  resources  were  the 
most  abundant.  Immense  wealth,  such  only  as  a 
people  at  least  practically  free,  can  create,  became 
necessary  in  order  to  carry  on  a  war  of  offence  or 
defence.  The  suzerain,  or  king,  was  thus  at  once 
converted  into  the  friend,  and  became  the  liberator 
of  bondmen.  Vassals  and  burghers  became  sub- 
jects and  citizens,  practically  free.  And  their  free- 
dom was  guarantied  to  them  by  no  plighted  faith  of 
kings  ;  by  no  lettered  scroll  of  parchment ;  but  by  an 
irreversible  law  of  necessity,  enacted  by  this  sove- 
reign invention.  What  it  did  for  individuals,  it  did 


29 

for  nations ;  armies  could  no  longer  carry  on  war 
in  a  foreign  country  without  keeping  up  a  commu- 
nication with  their  own  ;  and  to  conquer  a  new  coun- 
try, was  to  establish  a  new  base  for  military  opera- 
tions against  others ;  and  thus,  from  necessity,  was 
established  a  community  of  nations,  in  which  the 
safety  of  all  found  a  guaranty  only  in  the  indepen- 
dence and  freedom  of  each.  Hence  comes  that  law 
of  nations  which  is  recognized  by  all  Christendom, 
and  that  sleepless  vigilance  which  guards  and  pre- 
serves the  balance  of  power. 

Gentlemen :  After  considering  these  consequen- 
ces, permit  me  to  ask  you  whether  Christendom  be 
indebted  for  her  progress,  thus  far  stated,  to  human 
legislation,  guided  by  some  abstract  theory  merely, 
or  to  the  sovereign  law  imposed  upon  her  by  this 
all-controlling  invention  ?  When  one  nation  had 
adopted  this  invention,  all  were  obliged  to  adopt  it, 
and  Christendom  having  thus  necessarily  received 
this  power  into  her  bosom,  shaped  her  policy  by  the 
necessities  which  it  imposed.  Indeed,  she  owed  her 
then,  and  owes  her  present  condition,  not  to  the 
foresight  of  her  counsels  guided  by  the  speculations 
of  her  theorists,  but  to  this  law  of  human  progress, 
which  has  overruled  her  follies  and  sustained  her 
wisdom. 

I  have  been  considering  an  invention  which  be- 
gins its  influence  in  the  world  of  matter  and  reflects 
it  inward  to  the  world  of  mind.  I  now  pass  to 
another  discovery  or  invention,  that  belongs  to  the 
same  century,  but  which  begins  its  influence  in  the 
world  of  mind,  and  reflects  it  outward  to  the  world 


30 

of  matter.     You  will  at  once  understand  me  to  re- 
fer to  the  art  of  Printing. 

Were  human  progress  a  mere  result  of  fortuitous 
events,  and  not  the  necessary  operation  of  a  law  of 
mind  proceeding  from  a  designing  reason,  these  two 
discoveries,  made  about  the  same  time,  might  be  in- 
scribed in  the  list  of  remarkable  coincidences.  But 
they  belong  to  no  such  list.  The  invention  of  print- 
ing, like  every  other,  may  be  traced  from  its  first 
rude  essays  down  through  a  logical  series  of  discov- 
eries and  improvements,  urged  on  by  the  conspiring 
action  of  the  whole  humanity,  to  its  last  grand  re- 
sult, as  the  necessary  consequence  of  all  that  has 
preceded  it.  It  was  necessary  that  a  large  portion 
of  the  human  race  should  be  educated  to  the  use  of 
letters ;  that  the  art  of  reading  and  writing  should 
become  widely  diffused ;  the  materials  for  copying 
cheap,  and  the  demand  for  copies  beyond  the  ca- 
pacity of  the  penman  to  supply.  You  may  accord- 
ingly trace  the  growth,  which  produced  this  inven- 
tion, from  the  first  symbolic  painting  of  thought  on 
rock  or  tree,  by  roving  savage,  to  the  mnemonic 
hieroglyphics  inscribed  on  pyramid  and  temple ; 
then  to  characters  representing  words  ;  then  to  those 
representing  syllables  ;  till  the  very  elements  of  the 
human  voice  at  last  take  representative  form  in  the 
alphabet.  In  this  form  it  branches  forth  beyond  the 
sacerdotal  caste,  and,  like  the  banyan  tree,  repeats 
itself  by  striking  its  far-reaching  branches  into  fresh 
soil.  It  passes  from  the  Egyptian  into  the  Phoeni- 
cian, thence  into  the  stronger  intellectual  soil  of 
Greece;  it  multiplies  itself  throughout  the  Roman 


31 

empire,  at  every  repetition  making  still  further  de- 
mands upon  the  labors  of  the  hand  ;  it  survives  the 
middle  ages,  that  its  far  extending  root  and  branch 
might  draw  increased  vigor  from  the  northern  mind, 
and  that  nether  mass  of  humanity,  which  is  at  length 
thrown  open  to  more  genial  influences ;  and  then  it 
is,  that  this  stupendous  growth  of  all  time  puts  forth, 
as  its  last  fruit,  this  wonder-working  art  of  printing* 
Readers  had  multiplied  with  the  revival  of  ancient 
learning,  with  the  progress  of  emancipation,  with 
the  love  of  the  marvellous  in  romance,  and  the  mys- 
terious in  religion,  and  demands  for  copies  of  great 
works,  and  especially  for  such  as  were  sacred,  or 
were  so  esteemed,  could  be  satisfied  in  no  way  but 
by  the  labor-saving  machinery  of  the  press. 

Now  the  military  art  must  date  its  rude  origin  at 
the  same  distant  epoch.  It  must  have  grown  by 
force  of  the  same  law  of  suggestion,  and  therefore 
must  have  almost  necessarily  produced  its  corres- 
ponding invention  of  gunpowder,  during  the  same 
century.  Thus  it  was,  that  one  and  the  same  law 
of  progress  conspired  to  perfect  these  two  grand 
inventions  at  about  the  same  time.  Twin  sove- 
reigns, the  one  to  commence  its  labors  in  the  world 
of  mind,  the  other  in  the  world  of  matter. 

And  what  were  the  effects  of  the  art  of  printing 
on  social  and  political  institutions  ?  Did  it  take  law 
from  the  human  legislator,  or  give  him  law  ?  Let 
us  see. 

It  created,  for  the  first  time  in  history,  what  may 
be  called  a  public  mind.  Cabined  and  cribbed 
though  it  was,  within  the  forms  of  an  age  of  despo- 


32 

tism  and  bigotry,  that  mind  grew  and  expanded,  till 
it  felt  the  pressure  of  those  forms  as  obstructions  to 
its  growth.  It  then  reformed  the  legislator  himself, 
and  through  him  cast  off  its  obstructions,  and 
thereupon  expanded,  with  a  broader  liberty,  into  a 
mightier  stature. 

This  mind  thus  shaped  itself,  not  upon  general 
speculative  ideas,  but  upon  natural  tendencies  and 
habits  of  thought,  coming  from  the  hoary  past,  and 
common  to  all,  and  to  which  the  inspiring  influence 
of  the  press  now  gave  an  all-pervasive  life.  Society 
was  thus  made  to  feel  its  existence  through  its  or- 
ganized entirety  through  all  its  institutions  and  in^ 
terests;  and  on  this  regenerated  feeling,  common 
to  all,  was  established  a  true  sovereignty  of  public 
opinion.  Do  not  misunderstand  me.  When  I  speak 
of  public  opinion,  I  do  not  mean  the  wild  impulse  of 
minority  or  majority ;  I  do  not  mean  popular  agita- 
tion or  effervescence.  1  do  not  mean  a  state  of  mind 
indicated  by  mass  meetings,  barbecues,  and  the  like. 
These  may  indicate  a  feverish  state  of  the  public 
mind,  but  they  indicate  no  public  opinion.  On  the 
contrary,  they  show  that  public  opinion  on  the  given 
subject  is  not  yet  formed.  But  I  mean  that  opinion 
which  is  a  natural,  spontaneous  growth,  or  proceed^ 
ing  from  the  organized  whole  ;  which  is  therefore  in 
accordance  with  the  political  institutions,  established 
interests,  and  the  general  moral  and  religious  sense 
of  a  community.  Until  these  are  endangered,  threat- 
ened, or  disturbed,  public  opinion  rests  unmoved, 
and  heeds  not  the  angry  discussions  that  are 
going  on  among  the  over-heated  partizans  of  the  day, 


35 

If,  therefore,  you  would  know  what  public  opinion 
is,  do  not  look  to  a  party  press  that  is  doing  what 
it  can  to  draw  forth  an  opinion  favorable  to  the 
cause  which  it  advocates,  but  look  to  the  estab- 
lished interests,  the  intellectual  character,  and  the 
moral  and  religious  sense  of  the  people,  which  the 
whole  press,  in  all  the  variety  of  its  departments, 
has  contributed  to  form,  and  from  them  estimate 
what  the  common  judgment,  in  the  last  result, 
must  be. 

Public  opinion,  in  our  country,  indulges  in  no  ab- 
stract speculations ;  it  leaves  them  to  the  dreams  of 
the  theorist.  In  the  full  enjoyment  of  its  own  un- 
obstructed freedom,  it  is  never  clamorous,  it  is 
never  violent.  It  moves  only  on  great  occasions, 
and  under  the  pressure  of  some  stern  necessity ; 
but,  when  it  does  move,  it  is  irresistible  ;  it  bears 
down  all  opposition  before  it.  The  demagogue  fre- 
quently attempts  to  imitate  the  incipient  stages  of 
this  movement,  by  an  artificial  agitation  of  the  mass- 
es. Yet  his  imposture  is  sure  to  be  detected  in  the 
end,  by  the  fraudful  expedients  to  which  he  resorts 
in  order  to  sustain  that  continued  excitement  in 
which  alone  he  can  live.  Public  opinion  neither 
countenances  such  expedients,  nor  desires  the  agi- 
tation which  they  provoke.  To  it,  all  agitation  is 
incidental,  and  results  from  extraneous  causes,  or 
from  its  partial  manifestations.  Sovereign  in  itself, 
it  seeks  not  the  aid  of  violently  excited  feeling,  and 
when  it  unequivocally  manifests  itself,  all  agitation 
ceases,  and  the  stream  of  events  rolls  quietly  on. 

It  is  when  the  course  of  the  waters  is  obstructed, 
5 


34 

and  they  are  accumulating  behind  the  obstruction, 
that  this  artificial,  this  counterfeit  agitation  begins* 
It  is  then  that  every  monstrous  thing,  little  and  great, 
which  peoples  the  flood,  swells  into  unnatural  di- 
mensions, and  each,  from  the  small  fry  to  the  levia- 
than, 

Hugest  that  swims  the  ocean  stream, 

creates  for  itself  its  particular  whirlpool  and  circle 
of  bubble  and  foam,  deceiving  the  inconsiderate 
spectator  into  the  belief  that  all  this  is  the  agitation 
of  the  onward  rolling  flood,  the  indication  of  the 
natural  tendency  and  pressure  of  the  mighty  mass. 
Yet  let  but  the  master-mind,  which  alone  is  compe- 
tent to  view  the  entirety  ab  extra,  open  the  sluice- 
way, or  the  accumulating  wave  break  the  obstruc- 
tion down,  and  the  tide  rolls  tranquilly  on,  swallow- 
ing up  in  its  prevailing  current,  whirlpool  and  bub- 
ble and  foam,  and  little  monster  and  great,  arid 
bearing  them  all  quietly  off  to  the  ocean  of  eternal 
oblivion. 

This  is  public  opinion ;  the  gravitation  of  the 
general  mass  of  mind  through  all  its  institutions 
and  interests  toward  its  eternal  centre  ;  and  when  it 
so  gravitates,  it  is  always  right ;  but  this  artificial 
agitation  is  generally  wholly  individual,  and  when 
it  is  such,  it  is  always  wrong  ;  since  its  object,  what- 
ever may  be  the  pretext,  is  wholly  selfish.  It  is  only 
when  the  agitation  is  natural,  spontaneous,  and 
comes  from  an  effort  to  express  the  common  wants 
and  desires  of  a  people,  and  is  conducted  with  a  re- 
ligious reverence  for  public  morals,  for  good  order, 


35 

and  all  truth,  that  it  is  ever  the  true  harbinger  of  a 
genuine  and  enduring  public  opinion.  A  public 
opinion,  based  upon  the  generally  received  ideas  of 
morality,  religion,  and  law,  doth  in  fact  constitute 
the  common  conscience  of  a  people  ;  and  it  is  this 
conscience  which  in  every  great  and  trying  emer- 
gency makes  heroes  or  cowards  of  us  all,  as  we  may 
chance  to  be  right  or  wrong. 

It  was  a  deep  religious  and  moral  feeling  of  this 
sort,  for  the  first  time  brought  into  general  activity 
by  the  diffusion  of  the  Scriptures  through  the  agen- 
cy of  the  press,  which  in  the  sixteenth  century  com- 
menced and  carried  on  the  great  work  of  religious 
reformation.  The  obstructions  to  its  efforts  were 
mountainous,  and  a  deep  and  wide  searching  agita- 
tion went  before  it,  often  mingling  error  with  truth. 
It  touched,  it  moved  that  principle  which  lies  be- 
neath the  deepest  foundations  of  all  that  is  human, 
and  at  once  all  social  institutions  were  agitated  as 
by  an  earthquake.  It  taught  the  human  to  give 
place  to  the  divine.  It  dashed  government  against 
government,  institution  against  institution,  man 
against  man  ;  and  urged  on  that  series  of  religious 
revolutions,  which  for  ages  shook  all  Europe  to  its 
centre.  It  passed  from  religion  into  philosophy  ;  it 
took  form  in  politics ;  it  produced  its  consequences 
in  this  country ;  it  exploded,  with  most  murderous 
effect,  the  combustible  monarchy  of  France,  and  is 
to  this  day,  with  almost  undiminished  energy,  pass- 
ing down  its  tremulous  agitations  through  the  pres- 
ent into  the  boundless  future.  It  changed  the  aspect 


36 

of  Christendom ;    it  established   Protestantism    and 
Protestant  states,  and  reformed  Romanism  itself. 

Nobody  can  doubt  that  all  these  changes  were  the 
necessary  results  of  the  discovery  of  the  art  of  print- 
ing. They  date  from  the  commencement  of  the  re- 
formation ;  but  the  reformation  could  not  have  suc- 
ceeded except  by  the  aid  of  this  art.  Before  this 
discovery,  it  had  been  repeatedly  attempted  both  in 
church  and  out  of  church,  and  the  attempts  had 
failed  ;  but  after  this  discovery,  it  was  attempted  by 
a  poor  obscure  monk  in  Germany,  and  the  attempt 
did  not  fail.  It  began  in  the  social  mind,  and  ex- 
tended itself,  after  much  agitation,  by  a  regular  and 
orderly  process,  through  the  legitimate  legislation  of 
each  community,  out  into  state  and  church. 

The  creation  of  means  by  which  the  common 
mind,  in  every  country  of  Christendom,  may  in  an 
orderly  manner  produce  every  desirable  and  neces- 
sary change  in  government,  is  one  of  the  important 
results  of  this  discovery;  but  its  general  social  re- 
sults have  been  no  less  important. 

Let  us  go  back,  if  we  can,  to  the  middle  of  the 
fourteenth  century.  Let  us  place  ourselves  in  the 
bosom  of  that  country  whence  all  our  political  and 
social  institutions  are  directly  or  indirectly  derived  ; 
nay,  from  which  all  our  ideas  of  legal  right  and  duty, 
of  liberty  and  law,  proceed ;  and  now,  as  in  the 
midst  of  that  century,  let  us  see  what  the  condition 
of  the  common  mind  is  without  the  aid  of  this  art. 
The  first  thing,  then,  that  must  strike  our  attention, 
is  the  general  apathy  and  indifference  of  the  mass 
around  us,  as  to  all  matters  of  general,  social  and 


37 

political  importance.  There  is  no  press,  there  are 
no  newspapers,  no  periodicals,  political,  religious, 
literary,  or  scientific.  In  the  place  of  the  light  which 
should  come  from  these  sources  on  the  common 
mind,  a  profound  darkness  prevails,  beneath  which, 
all  thought  and  action  still  rest  in  primeval  slumber. 
But  this  is  not  all ;  there  are  no  books  in  circulation 
or  use,  save  those  few  that  are  transcribed  on  parch- 
ment by  the  slow  and  tedious  operations  of  the  pen. 
If  we  enter  their  public  libraries,  the  precious  man- 
uscripts are  chained  to  the  tables,  or  are  guarded 
with  the  vigilance  of  armed  centinels.  If  we  enter 
their  schools,  the  child  is  learning  his  alphabet  from 
a  written  scroll  furnished  him  by  his  master.  What 
a  mass  of  ignorance ;  aye,  and  of  necessary  bon- 
dage !  How  eagerly  the  million  multitudes  look  up 
to  the  learned  few  for  light  and  guidance  !  With 
what  intensity  of  attention  do  they  hang  on  the  ut- 
terance of  their  lips,  and  how  carefully  do  they  treas- 
ure up,  in  their  memories  of  iron,  the  oracles  that 
fall  on  their  ears  !  Ah  !  these  are  days  when  it  well 
behooves  the  learned  to  take  heed  what  they  say. 
They  are  rulers  of  necessity,  if  not  of  choice,  and 
their  words  are  law ;  and  well  may  they  subject 
themselves  to  some  general  rules  of  thought  and 
speech,  and  become  a  corporate  community,  sa- 
cerdotal or  other,  that  the  masses  may  take  organ- 
ization beneath  them.  Well  is  it  for  humanity  and 
human  progress  that  they  have  this  absolute  mas- 
terdom,  and  can  hold,  in  unqualified  subjection,  the 
blind  passions  and  terrible  energies  that  are  slumber- 


38 

ing  under  them!  Now  let  us  return  to  this  our  day 
and  generation,  and — 

What  a  change !  The  press  is  pouring  forth  its 
torrents  of  truth  or  falsehood ;  the  land  is  whitened 
with  its  daily  sheets  ;  the  labors  of  a  whole  literary 
life  may  be  purchased  by  an  hour's  labor  of  the  me- 
chanic; reading  is  the  pastime  of  man,  woman,  and 
child,  of  prince  and  peasant;  and  strange  voices, 
laden  with  strange  thoughts,  come  thick  on  the  clas- 
sic ear,  from  cottage,  and  garret,  and  cellar.  Where 
is  that  awful  intensity  of  attention,  that  necessary 
and  salutary  subjection  of  the  masses  to  the  learned 
few  ?  Gone  !  gone  never  to  return !  Every  individ- 
ual has  become  an  original  centre  of  thought ;  and 
thought  is  every  where  tending  to  clash  with  thought, 
and  action  with  action.  What  is  it  that  preserves 
order  in  the  rnidst  of  all  this  tendency  to  anarchy  ? 
Why,  it  is  done  by  that  public  opinion  which  sub- 
sists from  the  organized  whole,  and  which  the  press 
itself  has  created.  It  is  that  public  opinion,  which, 
by  its  mere  vis  inertia,  sustains  the  law,  and  holds 
the  struggling  demon  of  discord  down.  It  takes  the 
place  of  the  learned  of  old ;  and  how  important  it  is 
that  its  genuine  authority  should  be  sustained,  and 
that  no  demagogue  or  insane  enthusiast  should  be 
permitted  to  impose  on  the  world  its  counterfeit ! 

This  invention  came  not  from  legislation,  but  on 
the  contrary,  from  the  independent  progress  of  sci- 
ence and  art.  Unaided  by  human  policy,  it  organ- 
ized for  itself  an  empire  within  the  privacy  of  the 
human  mind ;  and,  gradually  extending  its  dominion 
from  spirit  outward  into  matter,  brought  human  leg- 


39 

islation,  at  last,  to  follow  reluctantly  in  the  steps  of 
its  progress.  And  when,  at  length,  the  old  world 
became  too  limited  for  the  intellectual  growth  which 
it  had  generated,  or  ancient  institutions  so  incorpor- 
ated with  the  life  of  nations  as  not  to  admit  of  that 
change  which  its  irrepressible  expansion  required,  it 
was  then  that  the  excess  of  this  growth  sought  for 
and  found  in  the  newly  discovered  western  world, 
an  ample  theatre  for  its  enlargement. 

A  world  newly  discovered !  and  how  ?  Why,  by 
the  progressive  improvement  of  the  art  of  navi- 
gation, aided  by  the  then  recent  discovery  or  appli- 
cation of  the  virtues  of  the  magnet ;  an  art  which 
had  taken  its  birth  at  the  first  stage  of  the  progress- 
ive humanity,  and  which  had  proceeded,  pari  passu, 
with  other  arts,  under  a  common  law  of  progress, 
and  which  consequently  had  its  corresponding  dis- 
covery at  this  very  juncture  of  affairs.  Under  the 
government  of  Divine  Prov  idence,  all  is  order  and 
law  ;  and  notwithstanding  the  occasional  outbreaks 
of  human  passion,  and  the  perversity  of  the  human 
will,  that  government  compels  its  own  puny  crea- 
tures, whatever  may  be  their  motives,  or  however 
widely  they  may  err,  to  shape  their  actions,  at  last, 
to  its  own  grand  train  of  events,  and  to  carry  out 
and  fulfil  its  own  great  designs. 

All  three  of  those  wonderful  inventions,  gunpow- 
der, printing,  and  the  compass,  were  necessary  to 
the  successful  establishment  of  the  Anglo-Saxon 
colonies  on  these  shores.  A  number  of  tempest- 
driven  Northmen  doubtless  discovered  and  colonized 
them  in  the  beginning  of  the  eleventh  century ;  but 


40 

their  discovery  was  premature.  It  came  not  in  the 
logical  order  of  progress.  The  colonists  necessarily 
failed  to  effect  a  permanent  establishment.  Their 
intercourse  with  the  mother  country  was  fraught 
with  every  peril  of  uncertainty ;  for  over  fog-wrapt 
surge,  or  beneath  cloud-invested  sky,  they  wandered 
without  compass  or  guide.  The  shores  them- 
selves were  occupied  by  ferocious  savages,  and  fire- 
arms were  wanting  to  subdue  them.  And  then, 
what  availed  it  to  add  the  forest  and  barbarism  of 
the  new  world,  to  the  forest  and  semi-barbarism  of 
the  old  ?  The  invention  of  printing  was  yet  want- 
ing to  reform  the  general  mind  of  Europe,  and 
to  generate  that  spirit  which  in  after  times  was 
to  go  forth  to  establish  its  emancipation  on  these 
shores,  under  the  auspices  of  institutions  to  be  form- 
ed from  all  that  was  select  and  glorious  in  the  past. 
The  establishment  and  developement  of  the  institu- 
tions under  which  we  live,  are  due  to  no  arbitrary 
enactments,  suggested  by  abstract  speculations,  but 
are  the  necessary  results  of  the  operations  of  these 
discoveries  and  inventions,  on  the  free  growth  of 
the  Anglo-Saxon  idea  of  liberty  and  law. 

Thus  the  state  of  the  arts  and  sciences,  in  the 
beginning  of  the  eleventh  century,  was  not  such  as 
to  enable  the  progressive  humanity  to  discover  these 
shores,  and  to  establish  permanent  dominion  on  this 
side  the  Atlantic.  Their  accidental  discovery,  at 
that  time,  yielded  no  useful  results.  But  the  pro- 
gress of  the  arts  and  sciences  in  the  fifteenth  cen- 
tury had  been  such,  as  to  furnish  all  the  necessary 
means  for  the  purpose ;  and  the  discovery  and  colo- 


41 

nization  of  this  continent  followed  as  a  necessary 
consequence  in  the  consecutive  order  of  events.    Its 
discovery  then  took  its  place,  as  a  logical  result  of 
the  grand  series  of  discoveries  and  inventions  that 
had  preceded  it,  and  thus  became  a  new  premise,  or 
broader  basis  for  the  progressive  action  of  the  race. 
I  might  here  dwell  on  the  consequences  of  the 
discovery  of  America,  and  its  settlement  by  civilized 
communities.    I  might  show  how  those  consequences 
reacted  on  the  arts  and  sciences  themselves,   on 
the  relations  of  nations,  on  their  internal  polities, 
their  domestic  habits,  and  social  enjoyments;  sha- 
ping their  institutions  and  controlling  their  legisla- 
tion.    But   I   deem   further  historical   illustrations 
unnecessary.     The  great  truth  that  human  progress 
is  the  result  of  an  ever  active  law,  manifesting  itself 
chiefly  in  scientific   discovery  and  invention,   and 
thereby  controlling  legislation,  and  giving  enduring 
improvement  to  all  social  and  political  institutions, 
cannot  be  a  subject  of  historical  question  or  doubt. 
It  is  a  law  as  palpable  in  the  history  of  the  social 
mind,  as  the  law  of  gravitation  in  the  movement  of 
matter.     Indeed,  I  should  feel  that  I  owed  a  serious 
apology  to  my  hearers  for  having  detained  them  so 
long  on  this  point,  were  it  not  for  certain  extrava- 
gant ideas  which  seem  to  be  rife  in  the  land.     The 
advocates  of  those  ideas  would  teach  us  that  there 
is   an   absolute,   undefinable    popular   sovereignty, 
which  can,  in  a  manner  its  own,  and  at  any  moment, 
carry  a  certain  supposed  natural  equality  into  social 
and  political  life,   and  thereby  elevate  poor  human 
nature,  however  rude  and  degraded  its  condition,  at 
5 


42 

once,  as  by  a  sort  of  magic,  into  a  state  of  supreme 
and  absolute  perfection.  When  this  sovereignty 
does  not  itself  act  to  this  end,  it  invokes  the  legis- 
lature, which  is  supposed  to  be  competent  to  do 
nearly  as  much.  No  doubt  government  can  do 
much ;  it  can  suppress  insurrection,  it  can  repel 
invasion,  it  can  enforce  contracts,  preserve  the 
peace,  concentrate  and  protect  the  existing  arts ; 
but  all  this  is  to  organize,  and  sustain  organization, 
and  not  to  establish  the  natural  equality.  Yet  this 
is  all  that  government  can  do  to  promote  human 
improvement ;  but  in  doing  this,  it  does  but  act  in 
obedience  to  that  law,  by  which  God  governs  in  the 
progress  of  the  race. 

The  idea  that  legislation  necessarily  acts  an  infe- 
rior part  in  human  progress,  that  this  progress  is 
governed  by  a  law  that  overrules  and  controls  politi- 
cal sovereignty,  may  be  humbling  indeed  to  the 
demagogue,  who  would  make  every  thing  bend  to 
the  popular  will.  But  there  this  law  is,  an  undoubt- 
ed and  incontrovertible  reality,  which  will  bear  with 
no  paltering,  but  demands  the  obedience  of  all,  on 
the  penalty  of  degradation  or  ruin.  The  true 
statesman,  the  real  promoter  of  human  progress,  at 
once  recognizes,  and  feels  proud  to  obey  it.  He 
feels  that  in  so  doing,  he  is  performing  the  most 
elevated  and  dignified  of  duties.  For  though  by 
legislation  he  cannot  advance  the  entire  humanity  a 
single  step,  yet  he  may,  by  legislation,  materially 
advance  the  nation  for  which  he  legislates.  You 
may  be  able  to  add  nothing  to  the  light  of  the  sun. 
yet  you  may  concentrate  his  rays  in  a  focus,  and 


43 

thus  make  a  particular  point,  as  bright  as  the  source 
from  which  they  emanate.  The  statesman  can  con- 
centrate the  scattered  arts  ;  he  may  carry  out  each 
discovery  and  invention  to  all  its  available  uses,  and 
thus  elevate  the  nation  which  he  serves,  to  the  head 
of  the  progressive  humanity.  Yet  if  he  would  do  this, 
he  must  not  wait  to  be  driven  to  the  task,  like  a 
galley  slave,  by  the  rival  and  threatening  policy  of 
foreign  governments.  For  the  very  fact  that  they 
coerce  him,  shows  that  they  are  already  in  his  ad- 
vance. 

Supposing  that  a  people  has  already  adopted  the 
common  arts  and  sciences,  as  far  as  they  are  availa- 
ble, there  will  still  remain  certain  discoveries  and  in- 
ventions of  more  recent  date,  which  are  not  fully 
applied,  or  carried  to  their  necessary  consequences. 
Among  these,  in  modern  times,  there  has  always 
been  some  one  susceptible  of  such  universality  of 
application,  as  would  seem  to  merit  the  particular 
consideration  of  statesmen.  Take  for  instance,  at 
the  present  time,  the  steam  engine.  What  is  sus- 
ceptible of  more  universal  application  ?  What, 
bringing  out  all  its  powers,  can  add  greater  energy 
and  vigor  to  the  arm  of  government  ?  What  has,  or 
can  perform  greater  wonders  ?  Not  gunpowder,  not 
the  compass,  nay,  not  even  the  press.  It  may  be 
made  to  toil  in  the  field,  and  supplant  the  labor  of 
the  slave.  It  already  works  at  the  spindle,  and  the 
loom,  and  the  forge,  and  the  mine.  It  is  even  now, 
whilst  I  am  speaking,  moving  over  earth  with  the 
speed  of  wings,  walking  up  the  downward  torrent, 
and  triumphantly  striding  over  the  roaring  billows  of 


44 

the  Atlantic.  Already,  where  in  use,  has  it  reduced 
the  distance  one  half  between  man  and  man,  nation 
and  nation,  of  extreme  islands  and  continents  of  the 
habitable  globe.  It  has  brought  civilization  into  im- 
mediate contact  with  barbarism,  and  Christianity  with 
heathenism. 

Unless  all  history  be  false,  and  the  eternal  laws  of 
matter  and  mind  nothing  but  a  dream,  there  can  be 
little  danger  in  predicting  too  much  for  the  progress 
of  this  invention.  Indeed,  the  danger  is,  that  the  most 
extravagant  predictions  will  fall  short  of  the  reality. 
No  matter  what  government  first  applies  this  inven- 
tion to  all  its  practical  naval  and  military  uses,  oth- 
er governments  must  follow,  however  reluctantly, 
or  cease  to  exist.  Nay,  should  an  unwonted  apathy 
seize  on  all  civilized  governments,  society  would,  at 
length,  do  the  work  to  a  great  extent  at  their  hands. 
The  progress  of  this  invention  is  ever  onward,  and 
will  not  cease  until  it  has  filled  the  world  with  its 
consequences. 

Already  has  it  coasted  the  shores  of  India,  pene- 
trated its  interior  by  river  or  road,  invaded  the  em- 
pire of  China,  and  roused  the  Chinese  mind  by  its 
appalling  apparition,  from  the  long  slumber  of  cen- 
turies past.  Ere  long  it  shall  bind  subject  Asia  to 
Europe  by  bands  of  iron,  and  the  Cossack  and  the 
Tartar,  whilst  feeding  their  herds  on  the  banks  of  the 
Don  and  the  steppes  of  southern  Russia,  shall  start 
with  amazement  at  the  shrill  whistle  of  the  locomo- 
tive, and  the  thunder  of  the  rail-road  car,  as  it  sweeps 
on  toward  the  confines  of  China.  Can  the  monar- 
chies of  Europe  slumber  in  security,  whilst  the  im- 


45 

mense  Russian  Empire  is  thus  centralizing  and  con- 
densing its  vast  military  resources  and  population  at 
their  backs  ?  Never ;  their  very  existence  must  de- 
pend upon  their  resort  to  like  means  of  defence  or 
annoyance.  And,  from  the  heart  of  every  monar- 
chy of  Europe,  must  diverge  rail-roads  to  every 
assailable  extreme ;  that  when  danger  comes,  and 
come  it  must,  the  whole  war  force  of  the  nation  may 
move,  at  a  moment's  warning,  with  the  speed  of 
wings,  to  the  extreme  point  of  peril. 

The  governments  of  Europe  must  become  strong- 
er internally  and  externally  ;  more  secure  within  and 
more  formidable  without,  maugre  the  democratic  ten- 
dencies by  which  they  are  threatened.  Democracy 
is  strong,  but  here  is  a  power  still  stronger,  that  will 
have  its  course.  It  is  a  power  with  which  govern- 
ments will,  and  must  organize  themselves,  at  their 
peril,  whatever  may  be  their  form.  And  when  thus 
organized,  their  endurance  must  be  as  that  of  ada- 
mant. Organized  on  like  basis,  our  representative 
democracy  itself  may  be  secure  ;  but  if  not  thus  or- 
ganized, it  can  only  wait,  with  as  much  quietude  as 
it  may,  to  be  gradually  absorbed,  and  finally  swallow- 
ed up  by  the  strong  organizations  that  may  be 
brought  to  bear  upon  it.  Think  ye,  that  the  milita- 
ry progress  of  this  invention  in  the  old  world,  is  to 
produce  no  effect  on  the  new  ;  that  the  breadth  of 
the  Atlantic  is  to  set  bounds  to  its  effects?  The 
breadth  of  the  Atlantic  !  Why,  it  has  become  a  nar- 
row frith,  over  which  armies  may  be  ferried  in  twelve 
or  fifteen  days,  to  land  in  slave  or  non-slave  hold- 
ing states  at  option ;  and  that  power,  "  whose 


46 

home  is  in  the  deep,"  already  transports,  over  her 
watery  empire,  on  the  wings  of  this  invention,  her 
victorious  cannon.  Other  governments  are  little 
behind  her  in  the  application  of  this  power.  Thus 
menaced,  have  we  strength  to  do  our  duty  with 
dignity  ?  Can  we  much  longer  be  governed  by  fac- 
tions ? 

I  am  not  suggesting  a  course  of  policy ;  I  am  sim- 
ply carrying  our  premises  to  their  necessary  conse- 
quences ;  and  to  that  end  I  ask  :  If  we  continue  a 
free  and  independent  people,  must  we  not  organize 
ourselves  on  the  basis  which  this  invention  affords  ? 
Can  we  avoid  it  ?  Have  we  any  choice  but  to  radi- 
ate our  country  with  communications  for  its  defence, 
that  the  whole  war  force  of  the  nation  may  be  thrown 
with  rail-road  speed  on  any  point  of  danger  ?  This 
system  of  defence  may  not  be  adopted  till  the  shock 
of  some  foreign  invasion,  or  some  terrible  internal 
convulsion,  forces  upon  the  government  the  neces- 
sity of  adopting  it ;  and  then,  if  it  be  the  will  of 
God  that  we  continue  one  people,  it  will,  and  must 
be  adopted.  When  it  is  done,  this  union  will  be 
complete ;  its  duration  will  depend  on  no  written 
scroll  of  parchment ;  on  no  variable  popular  breath  ; 
its  strength  on  no  constitutional  constructions  chang- 
ing to  suit  the  temper  of  the  times,  but  the  constitu- 
tion itself,  resolved  by  the  law  of  progress,  shall  take 
form,  over  the  whole  face  of  the  land,  in  bands  of 
iron. 

Such  must  be  the  political  progress  of  this  inven- 
tion. Government,  in  this  country,  has  as  yet  done 
nothing,  but  society  has  done  much*  True  to  itself 


47 

and  its  highest  interests,  it  has  been  prompt  in  obe- 
dience to  the  law  of  progress.  It  has  already  ex- 
tended, and  still  continues  to  extend  the  application 
of  this  sovereign  invention.  It  has  contracted,  as  it 
were,  this  country  within  half  its  former  space.  It 
has  made  a  sparse  population  dense,  and  if  a  dense 
population  has  its  evils,  as  in  large  cities  it  certainly 
has,  the  same  invention  offers  an  antidote.  It 
can,  without  disadvantage,  render  those  populations 
sparse.  It  can  combine  the  morality  and  the  occu- 
pation of  a  rural,  with  the  intellectual  activity  of  an 
urban  population.  It  will  and  must  proceed  on  its 
mission,  by  force  of  the  very  law  which  gave  it  ex- 
istence, till  the  civilization  of  Christendom,  on  the 
basis  which  it  affords,  has  been  fully  accomplished, 
and  then,  by  force  of  the  same  law,  will  it  bear  that 
civilization  into  the  bosom  of  barbarism,  christian- 
ize the  nations,  and  establish  the  dominion  of  the 
arts  over  the  broad  face  of  earth  and  ocean. 

Such  is  the  nature  of  the  law  of  progress.  Ever 
adding  to  the  triumphs  of  intellect,  ever  expanding 
the  sphere  of  civilization,  ever  enlarging  the  do- 
main of  liberty  and  law,  it  began  its  political  and  so- 
cial manifestations,  as  from  a  central  point,  in  the 
sacerdotal  caste  of  Egypt.  It  continued  them  in 
Greece,  and  there,  with  the  fine  arts  and  liberal  sci- 
ences, expanded  its  influence  over  a  Wider  compass. 
It  reflected  its  action  thence  into  the  yet  barbarous 
Latium.  It  created  the  civilization  of  Rome ;  Rome 
carried  that  civilization  abroad  among  the  nations  of 
the  earth,  and  enstampt  her  image  wherever  she  set 
down  the  foot  of  her  power.  Barbarism  came  to  re- 


48 

ceive  the  teachings  of  this  civilization,  at  length 
christianized,  and  to  open  a  sphere  of  action  for  the 
physical  sciences  and  useful  arts  in  the  nether  masses. 
Then  came  the  era  for  deepening  as  well  as  widen- 
ing the  action  of  this  law,  by  the  aid  of  physical  dis- 
covery and  invention.  Fire  arms  resolved  the  feudal 
system  into  a  community  of  nations.  The  press  in- 
spired that  community  with  a  common  soul.  The 
compass  revealed  this  western  world,  and  pioneered 
to  these  shores  the  select  mind  and  choicest  institu- 
tions of  Europe.  It  still  urged  on  its  discoveries  ; 
it  has  nearly  completed  the  exploration  of  the  globe. 
And  now  comes  this  invention  of  Watt  to  perfect 
what  these  discoveries  have  begun,  and  then  to  pen- 
etrate into  every  part  of  the  world,  and  to  carry  a 
Christian  civilization  wherever  it  penetrates.  Sprung, 
armed  for  its  mission,  from  the  head  of  the  progres- 
sive humanity,  it  cometh  forth  the  genuine  offspring 
of  that  one  Eternal  Reason  which  hath  ruled  through 
all  ages  past.  It  embraceth  within  itself,  struggling 
for  utterance,  the  history  of  millenniums  to  come. 
It  standeth  before  the  portals  of  the  future,  but  as  no 
veiled  Isis,  as  no  mute  and  motionless  Harpocrates. 
It  hath  a  language  its  own  ;  and  as  it  moveth  to  its 
task,  it  talketh  freely  of  its  mission.  Thou  unam- 
biguous prophet !  what  a  voice  for  the  future  speak- 
eth  from  the  expanding  volume  of  thy  force!  What 
a  tale  to  the  future  is  foretokened  in  the  movements 
of  thy  demon  strength !  Great  fashioner  of  the  des- 
tinies of  nations !  Thou  hast  hardly  commenced  thy 
career  of  victory ;  but  when  it  is  finished,  all  lands 


49 

and  all  seas  shall  lie  beneath  thy  feet,  at  once  con- 
quered and  glorified  by  thy  conquest ! 

And  now,  gentlemen,  if  such  be  the  law  of  human 
progress,  if  it  must  thus  ever  operate  from  the  past 
into  the  present,  and  through  the  present  to  the 
future,  and  as  by  a  sort  of  logical  process,  what 
becomes  of  those  doctrines  of  social  and  political 
reform,  with  which  our  land  is  now  so  rife,  and  with 
which  the  public  ear  is  so  incessantly  abused  ?  What 
becomes  of  those  ideas  of  a  natural,  absolute,  un- 
limited and  uncontrollable  popular  sovereignty,  which 
is  at  once  to  bring  humanity  to  perfection,  by  estab- 
lishing a  natural  liberty  and  a  natural  equality  in 
•social  and  political  life  ?  There  may  be  a  dire  clash- 
ing among  some  of  the  ideas  that  are  thus  brought 
forcibly  together  ;  but  the  wise  advocates  of  these 
doctrines  see  it  not,  feel  it  not.  They  have  sundry 
naked  abstractions,  which  they  have  created  for 
themselves,  or  others  for  them,  upon  which,  by  their 
own  unassisted  wisdom,  they  hope  to  build  up  soci- 
ety anew,  on  an  improved  plan.  They  would  cut 
clear  from  the  past ;  they  would  establish  a  new 
theory  of  human  nature,  and  base  a  human  progress 
upon  ideas  and  laws  their  own.  Well !  let  them  do 
it;  but  let  them  do  it — as  they  must — with  material 
their  own.  Let  them  create  their  world,  and  their 
man  and  woman,  after  their  own  image,  and  then,  on 
their  principles,  run  their  course  of  events  in  rivalry 
with  that  of  Divine  Providence.  But  let  them  not 
lay  their  hands  on  those  whom  God  has  created  af- 
ter his  image,  and  who  are  moving  on  to  their  high 
7 


50 

destiny  under  his  divine  guidance.  Let  them  not 
undertake  to  substitute  their  will  for  His,  their  laws 
for  His,  over  any  except  their  own,  and  we  shall 
then  know  what  that  progress  is  about  which  they 
are  now  so  abundantly  eloquent. 

In  their  estimation,  all  social  and  political  institu- 
tions can  be  removed,  by  their  sovereign  wills,  with 
the  same  ease  that  you  take  the  glove  from  your 
hand,  and  any  of  their  own  imaginings  substituted 
in  their  place.  Their  abstractions  have  no  refer- 
ence to  the  influence  of  the  past  on  the  present ; 
no  reference  to  the  existing  social  or  political  or- 
ganizations which  have  grown  out  of  by-gone  cen- 
turies; and  it  is  not  strange  that  they  are  utterly 
astonished  to  find,  when  they  attempt  to  carry  them 
into  effect,  that  they  are  entering  into  conflict  with 
all  that  the  past  has  done  for  us.  And  then  it  is 
very  natural  for  them  to  proceed,  from  lauding  their 
own  principles,  to  the  abuse  of  the  past ;  to  the 
abuse  of  all  our  ancestral  institutions  and  social  and 
political  ideas,  as  antiquated,  and  as  obstructions  to 
human  progress. 

Gentlemen,  the  present  state  of  human  progress 
is  a  child,  of  which  the  hoary  past  is  the  venerable 
father.  And  the  child  bears  the  image,  and  feels 
the  pulsating  blood,  and  enjoys  the  patrimony  of 
its  sepulchred  parent.  There  is  not  an  institu- 
tion, or  science,  or  art,  of  any  practical  value, 
nothing  of  the  good  or  true,  in  social  or  political 
life,  that  has  not  come  down  to  us  as  a  creation,  or 
as  a  result  of  the  labors  and  achievements  of  the 
venerated  dead ;  the  dead,  not  of  modern  times 


51 


merely,  but  of  far  distant  antiquity.  The  blood 
of  Thermopylae,  of  Marathon,  and  Platea,  flowed 
not  in  vain  for  us.  Homer  sung,  Plato  mused, 
and  Socrates  moralized,  for  our  benefit.  For  us 
Rome  went  forth  in  her  invincible  legion  to  con- 
quer and  humanize  ;  for  us  Roman  wisdom  planned 
and  Roman  valor  fought,  and  laid  broad  and 
deep  the  foundations  of  Christendom.  Aye,  some- 
thing even  of  our  nearer  selves  appears  in  the 
action  of  the  distant  past.  That  blood,  which  now 
circulates  warm  through  the  Anglo-American  heart, 
may  be  traced  through  centuries  of  light  and 
shadow,  of  triumph  and  trial,  in  the  Anglo-Saxon 
line.  For  us  it  struggled  under  the  Norman  rule, 
and  created  our  idea  of  liberty  and  law  ;  for  us  it 
struck  the  harp  of  heaven  in  Milton,  of  nature  in 
Shakspeare,  and  proclaimed  the  laws  of  the  uni- 
verse in  the  philosophy  of  Newton.  O !  let  us 
build  monuments  to  the  past.  Let  them  tower  on 
mound  and  mountain  ;  let  them  rise  from  the  cor- 
ners of  our  streets,  and  in  our  public  squares,  that 
childhood  may  sport  its  marbles  at  their  basements, 
and  lisp  the  names  of  the  commemorated  dead,  as 
it  lisps  the  letters  of  its  alphabet.  Thus  shall  the 
past  be  made  to  stand  out  in  a  monumental  history, 
that  may  be  seen  by  the  eye,  and  touched  by  the 
hand.  Thus  shall  it  be  made  to  subsist  to  the  sens- 
es, as  it  still  lives  in  the  organization  of  the  social 
mind ;  an  organization  from  which  its  errors  have 
died  out,  or  are  dying,  and  in  which  nothing  but  its 
Herculean  labors  do,  or  are  to  endure.  Yes,  let 
us  sanctify  the  past,  and  let  no  hand,  with  sacrile- 


gious  violence  dare  mar  its  vene rabid  aspect* 
Change  indeed  must  come,  but  then  let  it  como  by 
force  of  the  necessary  law  of  progress.  So  shall  the 
present  still  ever  build  and  improve  on  a  patrimony 
formed  by  the  deeds  of  heroic  virtue,  and  the  labors 
of  exalted  intellect.  So  shall  the  great  and  glori- 
ous be  added  to  the  great  and  glorious,  and  the 
labors  of  the  illustrious  dead  still  be  made  fruitful 
by  the  labors  of  the  illustrious  living,  time  without 
end. 

Such  is  the  nature  of  that  inheritance  which  has 
come  down  to  us  from  the  past,  worthy  to  be  hon- 
ored by  every  philanthropic  feeling  for  the  present, 
and  cherished  by  every  hope  for  the  future.  And 
now  do  these  theorists  expect  us  to  renounce  this 
patrimony,  and  go  and  build  on  their  barren  ab- 
stractions ?— commence  a  new  progress  on  their 
empty  speculations  ?  And  shall  we  do  it  ?  No, 
never,  never,  whilst  humanity,  through  her  grand 
organization  of  nations,  yields  a  necessary  obedi- 
ence to  the  laws  of  the  Supreme  Reason,  or  Nature, 
through  her  universal  frame  of  worlds,  stands  fast 
in  the  laws  of  her  God  ! 


0470! 


UNIVERSITY  OF  CALIFORNIA  LIBRARY 
BERKELEY 

Return  to  desk  from  which  borrowed. 
This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below. 


in 


>    8J953 


NOV 141951 


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23Apr  '57TS 
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REC'D  LQ 


3  LD 

*  8  1959 


/.  c. 


REC'D  LD 

FEB  26  1962 


REC'D 

26196? 


RETCTD  CD 

MAY  14  196? 


LD  21-100m-7,'52(A2528sl6)476 


>65-9P^ 


